“Shanker-Jaikishan, obviously. The duo, the most versatile in the nation, composed the maximum number of hits in the maximum number of films possible.”

The SUPREMO

Shankar-Jaikishan, rightly termed the Gangotri (origin) of contemporary Hindi film music, not only moulded public taste but also raised the bar repeatedly in compositions, orchestration and even innovations. However, possibly because Jaikishan Panchal was the flamboyant half who passed away early, Shankar remained in the shadows. Here’s highlighting the man and his role in the S-J gloryThe last note
After Jaikishan passed away in 1971, Shankar’s career was never the same again. He passed away, tragically unsung, on April 26, 1987, the year in which Intequam Ki Aag was released. However, the last film he had worked on, Gori, hit the screen in 1992.
The director-lyricist of this film, Sudhakar Sharma, recalls the composer with affection. “For many years, I was the boy who took coffee in the studios to Shankarji,” says Sudhakar. “Later I was assistant director to Kishore Kumar. My dream was that whenever I turned director, I would have Shankarji score my film. I recall going to him in 1982 with Rs 21,000 as signing amount. He remembered me, took only a token rupee as payment and said with a smile, “So the boy who worked for me is now giving me work!”
But Sudhakar drops a bomb: “The first song that we recorded became controversial and showed how his luck had turned for the worse. It was Gori hai kalaiyan sung by Kavita Krishnamurthi. However, since my film was terribly delayed, somehow that song with the same tune appeared in Aaj Ki Arjun, credited to someone else, and even topped an annual countdown show that year!”

Points to ponder
Sharma recalls how Shankar would want to understand the thought in the verse and compose a tune only after the lyrics were written. “He would compose while standing. When I asked Shankarji about this, he said, “This is why our songs always keep standing tall aur hamare gaane kabhi baith-te nahin (Our songs never sink into oblivion)!”
Says Sharma, “Shankarji’s tunes were based on raags, but unlike today’s composers, he understood words and their importance. He would never distort them by stretching or shortening syllables and would be very fastidious about the bindis and maatras, like hai could never be hain just to suit a metre. In fact, the last of his ‘live’ rehearsals was exclusively to check this and so the lyricist had to be present.”
“Another lesser-known fact about him was that he would fix the raags for a film’s story in advance,” Sharma goes on. “For my film, he had decided on Pahadi and Bhairavi. He said that repetition of a raag in the same film would imprint the association of a film and its music in the listener’s memory. But it made his work more difficult as the songs had to be within the ambit of the raag and yet sound different and diverse from each other.”

The musical mentor
Sharda, the singer Shankar groomed, introduced (with the cult Titli udi in Suraj) and made popular with over 20 hit songs, recalls how Shankar carefully groomed her after Raj Kapoor discovered the singer in Teheran. “He was like an ace johri (jeweller) who could recognize an artiste instantly,” says the singer. “Rajji took me to him and Shankarji heard me on the microphone and knew exactly how I should be prepared for a playback career.
“He took me to Pandit Jagannath Prasad, who had taught both Rajji himself and Mukeshji and ensured that special techniques were used as time was short,” says the singer. “My grooming started directly with the Vilambit Taal and then learning elements of thumri from Laxman Prasad Jaipurwale. Nirmala Arun, Govinda’s mother, then trained my vocal expression. But most important of all was Shankarji’s special training in playback.”
Sharda reminisces how Shankar would tell her that every song needed to be infused with soul. “He would call me to his music room twice or thrice a week and make me sing the new songs that he was making for Lataji, Rafisaab, Mukeshji and so on. The idea was that I would never mimic any artiste because I had never heard them sing the song! I remember singing Ehsaan tera hoga (Junglee) and the songs of Teesri Kasam. It was this phase that benefitted me the most! When Titli udi finally came out, it thus had that quality that makes the public love it over 40 years later.”

Titanic reign
“Shankar was a master at so many instruments,” recalls the singer. “He was unequalled on the harmonium, where his notes flowed like a river, and played the tabla and so many other instruments. Duniya ki sair kar lo, for Around The World, saw Shankarji bringing in the keyboard to Hindi film music for the first time. There are so many vocal and instrumental aspects that Jaikishanji and he pioneered, from using the obligato and counterpoint in orchestra to high-pitched male mukhdas like Dil tera diwana (Dil Tera Diwana) and Aiyiya suku suku (Junglee). S-J brought so many Western aspects and Indianized their use, giving a richness to their songs. And there was so much variation – from so many of their music pieces you could actually fashion dozens of new hits!”
Says Sharda, “Jaikishanji was very talented too, but Shankarji had a greater range according to me! He gave Manna Dey a new dimension with his song for Rajsaab in Awara and used Subir Sen for Rajendra Kumar in Aas Ka Panchhi. He fought for Mukesh when Dilip Kumar wanted Rafi, his regular voice in Yeh mera diwanapan hai (Yahudi). Both of them were very fast at work and when a tune hit him, he would tell his notation man Sebastian D’Souza, “Chalo likho” and just hum it out. Shankarji had this habit of going to his music room and making songs, with all his musicians, whether he was working on a film or not.”
Sharda feels that the standout quality of Shankar’s songs was their scientific correctness. “There was nothing kinky or utt-pataang in their songs. The raags and their notes and even time-frames as well as the Western grammar were followed immaculately and with precision.”
At their peak, recalls the singer, the stars of a film never mattered. “All territories for the film would be sold on the announcement that the music was by Shankar Jaikishan! When Indira Gandhi first launched the National Savings Certificate scheme, they gave an incentive of concessional tickets for a Shankar-Jaikishan show. And people bought the certificates just to attend the concert! At their shows, top names like Dilip Kumar and Raj Kapoor would not be allowed to stand on stage for more than a couple of minutes – the audiences just wanted the music to resume!”
Shankar-Jaikishan, she remembers, had an uncanny telepathic understanding. “Why Shankarji lost ground after Jaikishanji passed away was because mediocrity had gained ground in the early ’70s and people wanted to pull him down, using Jaikishanji’s death as a handle.” But the singer admits that Shankar’s blunt nature and his quick temper did affect his career. “He was short on diplomacy and strong on discipline,” she says. “And he was a soft man by nature, who was broken by lyricist Shailendra’s death.”

The inside story
The singer also debunks some popular myths about the duo. “People make much about my singing only for Shankar,” says Sharda. “But Jaikishanji would always be there for most of the recordings. It also suited people to magnify their rift, which was like a quarrel among best friends. Shankarji was there for Jaikishan’s songs till the end, and was by his side when Jaikishanji was in hospital.”
Sharda also reveals that, contrary to popular belief, Shankar did not ghost-compose the 1967 film Street Singer as Suraj. “He might have given inputs and was there to help and overview, which Shankarji would also do with Dattaramji’s solo films,” says Sharda. “But Suraj was a real person who was a musician with S-J. Later, he even did a Marathi film.”

The all-rounder
Dinesh Shailendra, son of Shankar’s inseparable friend and favourite lyricist Shailendra, recalls that the legend was a part-time wrestler who also was an ace dancer.
“No one came close to Shankar and Jaikishan,” says the writer. “They pioneered the title-song with Barsaat and later each would compose a title-song in some films. It is also true that almost 70 per cent of my father’s songs were composed by Shankarji.”
An amusing side of the composer is highlighted by Dinesh. “Shankarji was a short-tempered man prone to being abusive. In fact, my father would tell me that Shankarji would often use expletives and cusswords even to provide the metre to the lyricist, which in most cases was my father!”
Lekh Tandon, the octogenarian who worked with S-J in most of his films (Amrapali, Professor, Jhuk Gaya Aasmaan, Prince, Jahan Pyar Miley) recalls their old association in Prithvi Theatre. “All of us there – the set man, musicians, make-up man and actors – were equals and often had to fill in. I recall Shankarji dancing on stage with instruments around his neck in Prithviraj Kapoor’s play Pathan.”
The filmmaker recalls the softer side of the giant and says, “Once two lakh rupees – a huge sum in the ’60s – was stolen by Jaikishan’s relative from his house. Shankar never flinched, comforted Jai and that evening, gave him back the amount because he had gone and signed three films!”
Terming Shankar “quiet but mischievous, a Ganesh devotee and a born romantic”, the veteran recalls, “No composer ever got the kind of money S-J commanded – they were paid more than the topmost stars and got a lakh even in the ’50s. When I signed my first film Professor, they refused to accept money. And yes, most of the songs in Amrapali were done by Shankar. They would never have ego issues between them and would decide mutually which song each one would compose!”

The first chapter
The saga of S-J reads like the biography of any great king in history. And in the itihaas of film music, S-J were no less than monarchs.
But Shankar’s role in the annals of S-J is far larger than known. Shankarsingh Ramsingh Raghuvanshi was born on October 25, 1922 in Punjab. His father soon moved to Andhra Pradesh, and Shanker trained as a dancer, played the tabla (in a local temple there), pakhawaj and other instruments.
After moving to Mumbai, Shankar learnt the tabla formally from Baba Nasir Khansahib. He was a disciple of composer Khurshid Anwar, worked as assistant to leading composer-duo of Husnlal Bhagatram and started with a theater group run by Satyanarayan and Hemawati before shifting to Prithvi Theatre.

Shankar and Jaikishan met in the office of director Chandravadan Bhatt, who had promised both separate breaks. It was Shankar who took that hugely historic initiative of starting a conversation with Jaikishan and discovered that he was a harmonium player. Shankar assured Jaikishan of the job at Prithvi Theatre, Prithviraj Kapoor honoured his promise and the two boys, who were soon to strike a rare depth in deep friendship, began working in the music department, and continued assisting music director Ram Ganguly when Prithviraj’s son Raj Kapoor turned filmmaker with Aag. With the blockbuster musical Barsaat, Raj introduced them as independent composers.
And the rest, as they say, is history.

We the SJ fans remember you on this auspicious day of your Birthday Jaikishen ji

We are missing you and your partner Shankerji very badly….Jahaan Raho Khush Raho

……………………………………………………….…………………………………………………………….

“Shanker-Jaikishan, obviously. The duo, the most versatile in the nation, composed the maximum number of hits in the maximum number of films possible.”

< h1 style=”text-align:center;”>I want to

carry on singing’

RANJAN DAS GUPTA

Interview with Manna Dey.

THE HINDU PHOTO LIBRARY
An 80-year-old Manna Dey singing. At 90, he still loves to accept challenges and to experiment.

MOHAMMED RAFI, Manna Dey, Mukesh, Hemant Kumar and Kishore Kumar formed a quintet of male playback singers who dominated Hindi film music of an era. Among them Manna Dey is the only one to receive the prestigious Dada Saheb Phalke award, the highest national award for lifetime contribution to Indian cinema. Prabodh Chandra Dey, or Manna Dey, began playback singing way back in 1943, in a duet with Suraiya for Tamanna. “Upar gagan vishal” in Mashaal gave him a solid footing as a playback singer and “Dharti kahe pukar ke” made him an icon in the true sense of the term.

Nephew of the legendary singer-composer K.C. Dey, Manna Dey is the only singer to have rendered a duet with the maestro Bhimsen Joshi and earned his appreciation. He has rendered hundreds of songs in Hindi, his mother tongue Bengali and also other regional languages. Excerpts from an exclusive interview the legendary singer gave after his return from a tour of the United States:

Do you like being branded a classical singer?

I don’t. I am not a full-fledged classical singer like Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan, Bhimsen Joshi or Amir Khan. I did have my training in classical music and still practise my riwaz daily for three hours. My uncle [K.C. Dey] wanted me to be involved fully in classical music. I was really not interested. Classical music appeals to only a class of audience and it is very difficult to reach out to the masses. Music based on pure ragas and bandishes has limitations.

The Dada Saheb Phalke Award must mean a lot to you.

Not exactly. I feel honoured but am in no mood to go overboard as I passed that period of my life long ago. Mohammed Rafi, Mukesh or Kishore Kumar never received the Phalke Award. It does not lower their status as singers in any way. My real award is when I hear a man on the streets of Kolkata, Delhi, Mumbai or Bangalore humming “Laga chunri mein daag” or “Aye meri zohra zabin”. Nothing can beat that recognition. A singer should be identified on the basis of his songs, and a listener should be able to figure out the name of the crooner of a number even with his eyes closed.

You have rendered a wide variety of songs in your illustrious career spanning seven decades.

THE HINDU PHOTO LIBRARY
(The music director duo Shanker (left) and Jaikishan. The team understood Manna Dey’s full depths as a singer.)

If I was monochromatic as a singer, I would have been nowhere. Just as I was at ease with raga-oriented songs, I could equally sing pop, sentimental songs and numbers with rhythm. Right from the beginning, it was my nature to experiment with different melodies.

Take the number “Gori tore banke” from Adhe Din Adhe Raat. I rendered it in pure Bhairavi but composer Chitragupta conducted a pure Western musical background to the song with the Spanish guitar, the bongo and snare drums. It was a unique experiment. He requested me to render the lines “Gore gore mukhde pe” with a rock-and-roll punch. The song was a super hit.

Who is the best music director you have worked with?

Shanker-Jaikishan, obviously. The duo, the most versatile in the nation, composed the maximum number of hits in the maximum number of films possible. Shanker-Jaikishan understood my full depth as a singer and used me brilliantly to sing for Raj Kapoor, Raaj Kumar and Shammi Kapoor. I rendered the majority of my memorable songs for Raj Kapoor, whom I consider a genius. The other music directors I have worked very well with include S.D. Burman, Salil Chowdhury, Madan Mohan, Roshan, Ravi [Ravi Shankar Sharma alias Bombay Ravi] and R.D. Burman.

You forgot to mention C. Ramchandra.

Thank you for reminding me. In his days, Annasaab was the greatest music director and I owe a lot of my success to him. A uncompromising music director, he had a perfect sense of melody. I still fondly remember the number “Dil ka gulzar jhuta” in Amardeep, which he tuned and which I sang jointly with Rafi, Lata [Mangeshkar] and Asha [Bhonsle]. It was a marvellous tune based on the beats of the dholak – something which only C. Ramchandra could compose. He could not adjust with the Hindi film world later.

What sort of rapport did you share with your colleagues?

We were healthy competitors and never rivals. Rafi was undoubtedly the greatest playback singer, Mukesh was nonpareil in his nasal tone, Hemant Kumar had a golden voice, and Kishore was a self-trained genius. I sang the maximum of my duet numbers with Rafi and we shared a deep silent regard for each other. The competition I had with Kishore whilst singing “Ek chatur naar” is something unknown to today’s singers. Lata Mangeshkar and Asha Bhonsle are versatile and powerful. Sandhya Mukherjee has a tremendous range in classical music, and Geeta Dutt’s voice seeped with emotion.

What was the difference in singing for Uttam Kumar and Soumitra Chatterjee in Bengali films?

Uttam was a trained musician and his sense of music was more than that of Soumitra. Though Uttam’s voice suited Hemanta Mukherjee the best, he adapted very well to my singing and never had any problems. Uttam Kumar and Raj Kapoor were two actors who were lip masters. Soumitra Chatterjee is a method actor who accommodated himself well to each song situation and delivered what was required of him well.

Which are your most favourite Bengali numbers?

“Raat jaga duti chokh”, “Tumi aar deko na” and “Aami tar thikana rakhini”. I tuned a number of Bengali songs and sang them too. Music directors who worked very successfully with me include Nachiketa Ghosh and Sudhin Das Gupta. Bengali lyrics in those days were at their peak by virtue of their words, feelings and depth. Even a popular number like “Aami shri shri” had some lyrical essence.

How did you adjust to South Indian songs?

I did sing a number of them confidently. My wife [a Malayalee] and daughter helped me with the right pronunciation and I rehearsed thoroughly before the recording of each number. South Indian pronunciation requires a special sort of accent without stylisation, and needs to appeal at once.

What are your immediate plans?

Currently, I am recording [Rabindranath] Tagore songs, a non-filmy Hindi album and a Bengali album in the blues style. At 90, I still love to accept challenges, experiment and want to carry on singing as long as I am alive. •